


That's Just Wrong

by ColorWithMarker



Series: Fallen Son [8]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Marvel Cameos, Post-Civil War (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:06:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6115927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorWithMarker/pseuds/ColorWithMarker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day, Clint was going to find that girl and thank her for saving him from making the biggest mistake of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's Just Wrong

Clint sits across from Wanda, staring at the poor girl leaning against the wall and staring at him with pitiful eyes. Metal tubes cover her arms from her fingers to near her elbows. The tubes are chained together, on top of being chained to the walls. Clint wants to reach through the bars and hold her. He has come to think of her like another one of his children since the battle in Sokovia. Only his children are not considered a SHIELD threat. Even though she isn’t the reason he had originally come – it isn’t even the request from SHIELD, but finding out that Natasha was shot pretty bad and Laura and the kids making her a get-well-soon kit – but when he heard and saw what happened, he needed to make sure she was okay.

“Tony Stark is officially the new director of SHIELD,” she says quietly. Her voice is hoarse. Clint wonders when the last time she had a drink. Or food. Or the ability to use her hands freely. “Maria Hill stepped down and handed the reigns to him. I heard it’s the stress.” Wanda swings her leg. “It’s my fault.”

“Wanda, don’t say that. Everything’s gone to hell for a while now. It can’t be your fault,” Clint assures.

“But it is. If they had imprisoned me long ago, then I wouldn’t be here.”

“Maria is probably worried that she’s next in line for an assassination attempt, since that’s the fad right now.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“HYDRAs.” Wanda stares at the floor. “Stop it, Wanda.”

“Clint, you and I know that I did horrible things. Unforgivable things. When the Hulk attacked that town, Banner took the blame. That was me. _Me_! Are you going to say I shouldn’t feel guilty about that?”

Clint sighs and wrings his hands together. He wishes he could fight against that, but Wanda’s ledger is a bit tricky. She has both redeemable and unforgivable marks, some of the latter more recent than others. “I can try to work out a deal. Get you out of SHIELD and into a little more isolation from the superhero world. Maybe you can spend some time with me on the farm. The kids would love you,” he says.

“You would trust me around your children?” Wanda asks.

Before Clint can give an answer, two SHIELD agents come and motion for Clint to follow him. It looks like the big guns were ready for him. “I promise, Wanda, I’ll find something,” he says, before letting the agents lead him away. He can hear the chains clinking, likely Wanda trying to watch him go.

* * *

 

Tony and Maria look like shit. That’s the first thought that comes to mind.

“You guys look like shit,” also happens to be the first thing he tells them.

And they really do. Tony’s left arm is casted and in a sling. Maria has seven stitches barely hiding underneath her bangs. Tony also happens to favor his right leg. Whatever Wanda had done seem to hit pretty hard. Based on how the rest of SHIELD looked, they were in much better shape. Clint perches on the couch, smirking when Tony rolls his eyes. He’ll sit like a person when he feels like it.

“We weren’t sure you would come,” Maria says.

“Given the circumstances, can you blame me?” Clint replies.

“No, we don’t. But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is why we brought you here.” Maria tosses a file onto the desk between them. Clint picks it up and opens to the cover page. He quickly looks back up in shock. No fucking way did he just read that with his own eyes.

“It’s in SHIELD’s best interest, and it can be in yours too,” Maria continues. “I’ve known you for years, Clint. Your talents go far beyond being a skilled marksman. We’ve narrowed it down–” Clint’s gaze flickers to Tony, who’s staring at the floor with his mouth twisted into a frown. “–and you were the best option. And this isn’t official… yet. We want to do a test-run first. Drop you into a random block in the city and see how it works out.”

Clint doesn’t answer right away. Again, he looks at Tony. Even though he was the director, it didn’t seem like he was standing behind this decision. At least not fully.

“I’ll agree on one condition,” he says. Maria raises an eyebrow. “You release Wanda.”

“Absolutely not. She’s being held before we can try her for attempted murder,” Maria says.

“I’m not saying she’s free to roam wherever. Just leave her to me. I can take her home and give her a chance to breathe and mature herself. She’s just a kid thrown into this whirlwind that took us years to handle.”

“Most children don’t release known assassins before trying to do their job themselves, Clint.”

“So? I was like her at that age, and SHIELD opened their arms to me with full knowledge of what I’ve done.”

“No offense, but you are nowhere near as capable as she is when it comes to power.”

“Doesn’t mean we don’t have equal body counts.” Clint relaxes into a sitting position and drums his fingertips on the arm of the chair. “How about this: if I like it, I’ll let you keep her. If I don’t, I take her, and I don’t bring her back until she’s ready.”

Before Maria can get a word in, Tony thrusts his right hand forward and grabs Clint’s to shake. “Deal,” he says.

* * *

 

SHIELD drops him in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen, a usual melting pot of assholes and generally horrible people. He knows there are other heroes lurking around, but they keep their distance from anything related to the Avengers, so he doesn’t expect to cross paths with them. And he hopes he doesn’t. Anyone who sees him would kill him.

Clint tugs at his collar. Did Steve always wear his uniform so damn tight? Clint had assumed that they couldn’t make clothes big enough for keep Cap’s body from bulging in them all around. Hell, Steve couldn’t wear sweatpants and a hoodie without giving them definitive shape. Now that he thinks about it, the shield is heavy too. Carrying it around on his back is making them sore. And his hearing is weaker with the helmet partially covering his ears.

To make a long story short, Clint thinks to himself, the fact that _he_ was the first up to try being the new Captain America baffles him when he’s sure that he’s the least physically fit one to do this.

“ _What’s cooking, good-looking?_ ” Tony says over the comm.

“Nothing major yet. Costume’s starting to itch where I can’t reach though,” Clint responds.

“ _Have things gotten awkward yet?_ ” Natasha asks. Her voice is scratchy and a bit weak, but she’s almost fully recovered. She spent most of her recovery catching up on much-needed rest.

“Which part? Taking the mantle of someone who died a month ago, or being given level two missions?”

“ _Smart-ass._ ”

“With a great ass,” Clint quips before he hears something. He mutes his earpiece and listens carefully. There’s a rattling about three blocks north. He starts with a light jog toward the place. Someone swears. Clint slows to a walk and puts his hand on his stun gun, not sure if he needs something to pack a heavier punch quite yet. The sound of an arrow being taken from a quiver is all too familiar, but strange coming from someone else. He takes the shield from its holster on his back and places his arm through the straps.

He enters the alley with the shield raised. One arrow ricochets off the vibranium, but the other he doesn’t see coming, and he falls to the side with a rope around his ankles with bolas on the ends. Two people take the chance to leap over him and run away. Clint grabs one of the knives holstered to his thigh and cuts himself free. He turns on his earpiece again to hear Natasha and Tony intermittently asking what happened.

“We got two punks heading east. One of them’s armed with a bow and arrows. Not sure about the other. I’ll let you know if I catch them,” he relays before sprinting after the punks in question. They’re fast, he’ll give them that, but they haven’t been around as long as him. He knows this city too well to let them get away. It’s a good chase too. They make sharp turns and quick climbs and descents that keep Clint on his toes. They almost make it a game for them, and he lets them. They think they’re winning, that they’ll run away without having to get thrown in jail (or whatever SHIELD might do if he gets them).

The rookie mistake they make is heading into an abandoned building _and_ running upstairs. Everyone knows you never do that. They don’t even get off on one of the levels, either. They go straight for the roof. Clint takes out his actual gun this time, just in case these kids are packing something heavier.

“ _Status, Clint,_ ” Tony says.

“They trapped themselves. Gimme five before the next update,” Clint whispers back.

He goes through the door to the roof and aims his gun. The kids see, and one of them pulls the other into him before raising their shield. Clint lowers his weapon. The other’s shield looks suspiciously like the one Cap had in the forties. Almost like he stole it from a museum in DC.

“Put your hands where I can see them,” he orders. Slowly, the shield is moved, and the two stand apart with their arms raised, shield and bow in hands. The one with the shield is a boy, likely seventeen, with dark skin and a bald head, dressed in what looks like a bad cosplay of Captain America. The one with the bow is a pale girl with dark hair, covered in purple spandex, who looks closer to twenty. His eyes have a mask around them. She has sunglasses.

A few drops of rain hit the roof before an utter downpour begins. No one moves.

“Who are you?” he shouts at them.

“We should be the ones asking you that!” the boy shouts back. “Imposter!”

Clint isn’t surprised by the hostility. He fully understands. But he’s on a mission, and the mission always comes first. “Place your weapons on the ground!” he orders.

“Take off the helmet, fake!” the girl shouts.

“I give you five!”

The girl doesn’t listen, and the boy cries out, “Hawkeye!” as she pulls an arrow from her quiver and shoots at Clint. He raises the shield, but this arrow happens to have an explosive tip, and he’s thrown back into the stairwell. He flies over the stairs and hits the wall before slipping to the landing. Between the helmet and the rain, he’s a bit off his game, and he mutters to himself about how stupid he’s acting. This should be a walk in the park for him.

He recovers and looks up to see the girl. “There’s already a Hawkeye, you know,” he says.

“And there _was_ a Captain America. You’re spitting on his grave, doing this.”

“And you aren’t being disrespectful?”

She snorts. “I’m doing this out of respect. He is a hero to me. An inspiration. He shows that even as the weakest link–” It takes all of Clint’s strength not to tell her otherwise. “–that he can hold his own against aliens and robots. Even when he was considered an enemy to this country and had warrants for his arrest left and right, I looked up to him. You don’t see me trying to copy him. I’m not trying to be Clint Barton. I do things my own style. I put my own twist on things. But you? You’re wearing the same uniform and carrying the same shield, and you think you deserve respect for it. There’s a difference between calling yourself Captain America and trying to be Captain America.” She makes a face, her lips forming into a snarl and her nose wrinkling. “How can you live with yourself trying to be him?”

Clint stares in shock. He doesn’t know what to say. He lets the kids go, both hopping around him to the next flight of stairs before running out. The wind picks up and blows the rain inside. Clint stands up and drops the shield, followed by the helmet. He raises a hand to his earpiece. “I’m sending you my location. I’m done.”

“ _What happened, Clint_?” Tony asks.

“This isn’t right. SHIELD doesn’t want to create a new Captain America. They want another Steve Rogers. I’m not here for that. Just… pick me up, please. And get Wanda ready to come home with me. She’s just as tired of this as I am.”

* * *

 

The kids greet him as always, by running downstairs and into his arms. Nathaniel bounces in his high chair, ignoring the mashed banana Laura is trying to feed him. Once the kids get their turn saying hello, Laura gives him a hug and a kiss. Wanda is greeted with open arms and an invitation for a hug that she turns down. Laura asks Lila and Cooper to show Wanda her room, giving her and Clint a chance to talk. She makes them coffee to go with their conversation.

Laura listens with wide eyes and Clint retells his story. She nods and shakes her head when she feels it’s appropriate, and only interrupts to ask how the others are, especially Natasha. Nathaniel interrupts once with a dirty diaper, taking the conversation into their room so he can be changed. Laura then puts him in his crib for a nap before pulling Clint into bed with her for the last five minutes of the story in whispers. When he’s finished, she kisses his forehead.

“It’s over now. You can take some time to relax before the next big thing happens. Get some rest. Then you can go upstairs and finish the attic like you promised you would a month ago,” Laura says before rolling over.

Clint slides closer and wraps his arm around Laura’s waist. “I’m almost done,” he says.

“That’s a load of crap and you know it.” Clint snickers into Laura’s hair as he drifts off with her.


End file.
